


The Scrooge McDuck Sanctioned Secular Holiday Gift Exchange of Elusiveness

by BlueBirdys



Category: DuckTales (Cartoon 2017)
Genre: Animal Death, Christmas, Depression, Gift Exchange, Holidays, Loss of a pet, M/M, Male-Female Friendship, Mental Health Issues, Pets, Pranks, Refers to the 'Gyro is an ex FOWL agent' theory, Secret Santa, Self Care, animal adoption
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-24
Updated: 2019-12-24
Packaged: 2021-02-25 21:53:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,088
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21932536
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlueBirdys/pseuds/BlueBirdys
Summary: Fenton frets over what could be a disastrous pairing for gift exchanges.
Relationships: Fenton Crackshell-Cabrera/Gyro Gearloose
Comments: 9
Kudos: 123





	The Scrooge McDuck Sanctioned Secular Holiday Gift Exchange of Elusiveness

**Author's Note:**

> So this wasn't actually written as a Secret Santa for anybody in particular, I just wrote this based on an idea that popped into my head.  
> Thank you so much to my buddy CosmicTanzanite for proofreading it!
> 
> Content warning: this drabble does contain some reference to animal death, so if that is something that bothers you, tread with caution.

“Why are you giving me this?” Gyro’s tone of voice had not softened in the slightest as Fenton held out a lidded paper cup.

“I know you already had one today, but I think you need a pick-me-up." The duck gave a hopeful smile as he let the drink warm his hands until Gyro would take it. 

The two inventors’ recent allowances to work from home coupled with their recent move-in together had its perks. They could spend a few days of the week in the comfort of their apartment in each other’s company. And it made coffee runs easier, the closest Starducks now being a mere two blocks away instead of halfway across town from the money bin.

“I really shouldn’t,” the chicken waved off after a brief pause, swiveling his chair back towards the stack of blueprints he’d been diligently working on. “I’ll regret it later.”

Gyro wasn’t normally one to reject coffee, but as of late, he was stressing over the various side effects of his newest antidepressant. He didn’t care for the nausea, the insomnia or the dry mouth, and the weight gain wasn’t that fun either (all his pants were custom fitted). Fenton had asked him if he wanted to schedule another appointment to see if there could be a medication switch, but Gyro, ever so stubborn, didn’t want to throw in the towel just yet. After Christmas, he said, maybe he would consider switching. With the holiday two months away, Fenton wasn’t sure if Gyro’s resolve would hold for that long, but he held his tongue. So long as the medication could help his boyfriend get through the day and feel better, then he would consider it successful.

“Well…” Fenton looked at the coffee and tussled Gyro’s hair gently, “I’ll leave it here for you in case you want to sip on it.”

Gyro’s gaze had flickered momentarily to see where the cup was placed, and before Fenton could pull his hand away, the chicken spoke up tersely, “Don’t put it _there_.”

Fenton caught sight of where he was about to place the cup and immediately drew it back, silently apologizing with a look. He was not going to question Gyro’s request or his reasoning as to keeping that particular corner of his home desk empty.

* * *

It had been less than a week ago.

She always used to sit there. Back when Gyro was still a sullen, impressionable teenager, being raised and groomed to be a notorious FOWL agent, he’d found her as a dirty, starving kitten hiding under a dumpster. The tiny pleading mews she gave had struck the chicken’s heart, reversing any ingrained lessons of callous cruelty almost immediately. He couldn’t have his superiors see her, so he’d kept her, for the next few years, in a wardrobe. He constantly prayed nobody would find her, and send her away or worse, make her disappear forever. And thankfully his prayers were answered until he grew the nerve to escape the evil organization and make an honest living at McDuck Enterprises.

Fenton hardly even knew Gyro owned a cat until they had started dating, the inventor pouring all his focus into the tasks at hand. But upon his first visit to Gyro’s apartment, Fenton had seen a light switch go off in the other. Whatever lack of affection or warmth Gyro had towards people in the lab was nowhere near apparent as the cat had approached her master, begging for cuddles and promptly received them.

“She is ‘Dutchess Mouse Mcmittens Esquire, Empress of the Genus Felidae and Destroyer of Planets’....but I call her ‘Mollie’ for short,” Gyro had introduced as the cat sat in his arms, staring suspiciously at Fenton.

And with every visit to the apartment, Fenton began to understand more how much of a different person Gyro could be when he was comfortable with himself, with someone or something that could understand him. It was Lil Bulb at work and Mollie at home. But there was definitely something special Fenton sensed as Gyro would share a tuna fish sandwich with the cat, almost like a ritual of trust and companionship.

“Mollie’s company was crucial to me after everything that happened,” Gyro admitted during a vulnerable moment with Fenton one night. “Leaving FOWL, my first breakup, the Spear of Selene...I don’t think I would have been able to pick myself up from that if she wasn’t here….she probably very well saved my life.”

“I’m grateful to her for that.” Fenton had smiled, wincing from the bite she responded with towards his petting.

She hadn’t trusted Fenton at first, often aggressively putting herself right between the two of them during conversations in the apartment, at the kitchen table, on the couch and eventually, even in the bed. But eventually, after some coaxing and bribing with treats, she came around to accept the new guest in the apartment.

When Gyro and Fenton moved into a new, bigger apartment together, there wasn’t even any fussiness or stress that came from Mollie. As soon as Gyro’s desk had been set up in the bedroom, she took her usual spot in the corner to watch him work, and that was that.

“I actually found her a few days before Christmas,” Gyro had revealed to Fenton as they had decorated their apartment for the holiday. “I never really had good memories or associations with that day until I found her.”

“So all that Christmas cheer you feel is simply a response to your cat?” Fenton had teased his boyfriend gently.

“Pretty much.”

That first Christmas the couple had spent together was so enjoyable, that Fenton couldn’t wait for that same feeling the following year. But just before the year was halfway over, Mollie’s age had begun aggressively catching up with her. Gyro initially hadn’t been concerned, knowing she was simply getting old, at least 18 or 19 by then, but as she got skinnier and ate less and slept more, both he and Fenton silently began to wonder how much more time she had. Her long fluffy fur needed brushing more often. She needed medicine, diet changes, various tips and suggestions by the vet to help prolong her quality of life. 

And for a few months it helped. Until it didn’t. Halloween had been spent with Gyro anxiously fretting over the poor animal when her limbs kept going out on her, causing her to fall off the desk. Even if she was just a little frazzled, it hurt Gyro to see her like this, and it hurt Fenton to see Gyro so upset.

Two weeks after that, with no real improvements coming and the quality of life growing dimmer by the day, Gyro made the difficult decision to say goodbye. Surprisingly, he shed no tears that morning of the scheduled appointment, not even as he let Mollie sit in his lap, share one last tuna sandwich with her and tell her about his work week while he stroked her faded calico fur. And when he returned from the vet’s office that afternoon, he still was dry-eyed. 

He only ugly-cried for a few minutes when Fenton had sat down with him, and they stared at the empty space on his desk together. Less than an hour later, Gyro was recomposed like he hadn’t even cried at all.

“Every time I would work, she’d sit and watch me and try to steal my pen,” Gyro recalled with a soft laugh. “It’s a miracle I got any work done.”

“And it’s a miracle I have neckties still intact. She chewed so many of them,” Fenton added.

The bittersweet reminiscing the couple shared proved to be healing for the both of them, especially Gyro. But after a few days, the grief renewed itself in the form of exhaustion as Gyro came to the realization of something he didn’t want to think about.

“It’ll be my first Christmas without her.”

Fenton knew it was something that would be difficult for Gyro to deal with, and he empathised. However, it stung knowing how much Gyro had been trying to make progress with his mental health, and this whole event was sending him backward. His own family wasn’t exactly the pet-owning kind. He knew his dear M’ma would be sympathetic but probably tactfully say that Gyro would just get over it, since Mollie was a cat and not a person. But Mollie had more or less had the same effect Lil Bulb had on Gyro, being his confidant who would listen to him without any judgement. And the cat had preceded the robot by well over a decade.

* * *

Fenton had decided to switch the subject quickly, keeping the coffee close to his chest.

“So…” he began, “I was thinking maybe this weekend we could start putting decorations up?”

When Gyro didn’t immediately respond, Fenton dreaded rejection or worse, apathy. To his relief, Gyro gave a stiff nod.

“Perhaps. Once this project is done, I can make a checklist of all the boxes in storage.”

It wasn’t a very cheerful response, but it was a better one than Fenton had expected.

That would do for now.

* * *

“Woah.” Launchpad squinted to get a better look at the poster. “Did Christmas start in November this year, or is this some new kind of Secret Sant-”

“Shh!” Dewey slapped his bill shut. “My uncle’s in the other room. When he’s around, we’re calling this the ‘Scrooge McDuck Sanctioned Secular Holiday Gift Exchange of Elusiveness’.”

“Why is it starting so early?” Huey examined the poster his mom had just then taped up.

“Well,” Della began, putting her roll of tape away, “a bunch of us were talking and we thought it would be nice to allow people more time to pick out gifts for their giftee...gifts that aren’t clearance rack mechanical pencils from the _dollar store_.” She shot a focused look to Gyro, glaring bitterly.

Gyro shrugged nonchalantly. “I gifted those on practicality, not sentiment.”

“This year, the rules are simple,” Della continued. “Everyone is going to write down three things they want and three things they don’t want, and your recipient will use that to choose your gift.”

“Within budget,” Beakley added. “You do have a budget in mind correct?”

“Pffch, where’s the fun in that?”

“Mom, I literally have eight dollars,” Dewey informed her, poker-faced.

“We’re kids with no jobs,” Huey added.

“So was your Uncle Scrooge. Look where he is now, and make do!” Della prompted her kids, then held up her aviator’s hat. “Alright, so everyone write your name on top of your wishlist, and we’ll draw them out of the hat.”

Gyro dropped his slip into the hat, open-faced. Della noticed it was blank and smirked. “Y’know Gyro, if you don’t write what you want, it’s gonna be fair game for something you might not want.”

“Pass. I’ve never been too partial for gifts.”

“Suit yourself.”

Beakley had peered over Webby’s shoulder to see what her granddaughter wrote down and upon seeing ‘Fire Machete’ written over and over, gave a disapproving look.

“Care to rewrite your wishlist, Webbigail?”

“Hm...nope!” Webby chirped as she neatly folded her slip in the hat. 

Soon, everyone had dropped theirs in but Fenton. He was struggling to come up with ideas for what he wanted, but he was drawing a blank. Somehow the last couple of months had burned him out of any desire for new stuff. He turned to ask Gyro for suggestions, but before he could open his beak, an idea flickered like a bright candle. Fenton carefully wrote down one single wish.

_I want Gyro to have a merry Christmas._

Once all the slips were in and everyone had drawn from the hat, Fenton was pleased to see he got Huey as his giftee, with practical Junior Woodchuck approved items being on the wishlist. He looked over to Gyro, who was already scrolling his phone for options.

“Got a good one?” Fenton smiled.

“An interesting one, I’ll say that much,” Gyro mumbled as he focused on researching. “You wouldn’t happen to know where to find affordable pyrotechnic weapons would you?”

“What?”

“Nevermind. I can make it myself.”

Fenton decided not to entertain whatever ideas were going through Gyro’s head at the moment and looked around to see everyone silently looking over the lists, formulating ideas.

That was except for Della. She was staring right at Gyro like a sharpshooter hunting a deer. Remembering the warning Della had given to Gyro about his blank wishlist, Fenton gulped. 

He’d gathered, after over a year of watching his boyfriend and Scrooge McDuck’s niece interact, that the two of them had somewhat of a rivalrous history, ranging from sharp battles of wits to immature prank wars. Gyro often won both. Fenton had no doubt that Della would take advantage of an opportunity like this to get revenge on Gyro. If it were any other time of year, he would look the other way and let Gyro handle it. But he knew Gyro was vulnerable right now, and a childish prank or revenge plot was not going to help.

Discreetly, Fenton shuffled over to Della, laughing awkwardly. “Hey Della, would you maybe wanna switch?”

“Nope!” She smiled, folding the list in half and pocketing it. “All selections are final.”

“But uh, what if i got my own list and-”

“All selections finallllll!” she singsonged, shuffling down the hall, humming a Christmastime tune at the top of her lungs.

The knot in Fenton’s stomach tightened like a festive bow on a present. A present probably unlike the one Della was going to gift Gyro.

 _Oh dios mio, Fenton,_ the duck mumbled to himself, _we’re really in it now…_

* * *

It was both a blessing and a curse to have over a month of time until the gift exchanges. Fenton could count on shipping times from online shopping, but he would also have to wait in suspense to see just exactly what Della was planning for Gyro. She had so much time to formulate a plan, Fenton had a sense that she wasn’t going to half-ass any schemes.

After two weeks of normalcy and work in the labs, his brain did start to settle down and rationalize his paranoia. Maybe Della wasn’t actually planning anything. Or maybe it was just going to be something small like a rubber spider in a sandwich. Gyro could probably handle that! But then again, it was Della. She would scoff at a rubber spider in a sandwich.

Fenton then wondered, after two weeks of seeing neither face nor feather of Gyro’s rival, if maybe he had been wrong about Della having pulled Gyro’s list, and that she had gotten someone else. That possibility was diminished when she suddenly showed up one afternoon, not saying a single word, and seemed to be observing Gyro as he worked, scribbling in a notepad with a self satisfied smirk and hurried out. Gyro didn’t even notice.

Thanks to his stresses over the idea of having to deal with an unhappy boyfriend on Christmas, Fenton hardly had brainspace to notice Gyro’s better mood in the last week or so. The chicken had gotten calmer and way less irritable than he used to, his exuberance and mania now saved for whenever he had a genius streak with an invention. He didn’t even complain about the side effects anymore. 

Wetting his fingers to extinguish a small flame trickling on his bangs, Gyro had playfully nudged Fenton on the arm as he passed by his desk, totally not expecting the panicked shriek the duck gave or him falling out of his chair.

“Hah…..s-sorry,” Fenton apologized with a nervous laugh, realizing that he had spaced out. “I got startled.”

“I’ll say.” Gyro clicked his tongue, almost impressed. “I just wanted to ask if you would care to help me unpack more decoration boxes at home. We’ve been sort of putting it off.”

“Oh...yeah!” Fenton gave a shaky thumbs up as he got on his feet.

“Are you alright? You’ve been significantly more...well... _you_ , the last few days,” Gyro worded, looking curiously at his boyfriend.

“Oh yeah,” the duck waved off, “I’ve just been trying to plan my gift exchange and prepping myself for all the distress calls I know that Gizmoduck is going to get. You know how holidays are.”

“True,” tsked Gyro, shaking his head. “Can people manage to not be stupid for just one month? It’s all I ask.”

Giving a small snort through the nostrils, Fenton sighed. “Yeah...well, crime never takes a holiday I guess.”

“But you do.” Gyro rolled his eyes and gave a quick peck on the cheek to Fenton as he headed towards the elevator for his lunch break, waving behind him. “If the thing on my desk catches fire, let it. It means it’s working.”

Fenton, warmed up by the kiss, decided not to question Gyro’s instructions and finally attempted to get back to work. Seeing his boyfriend in a good mood was more than a little reassuring that maybe things would be better than alright.

He didn’t expect Della to return in the lab, tape measure in hand and walk straight over to Gyro’s desk. Making direct eye contact with Fenton for only a second, she began making random measurements on Gyro’s desk, nodding in thought, writing on a clipboard, then leaving without a word.

Fenton exhaled through his nostrils. Gyro’s good mood wasn’t going to last forever if she did anything like he was predicting.

“Why were you measuring Gyro’s desk?”

“Not spoiling the surprise.” Della grinned, not at all concerned by Fenton’s confrontation of her in the money bin lobby. 

“I know you’re planning something, and I’m going to ask that whatever it is, don’t do it. Gyro doesn’t need any more stress right now,” Fenton firmly insisted. “Can it wait after the holidays?”

“Well then, that kind of wrecks the whole secret gift exchange model doesn’t it? Anyway, I can’t stop what’s already started. That’s not Della-core!” She waved off, still grinning.

Fenton groaned, furrowing his brow. “Look, I know you and Gyro have some huge prank war going on, but can you not bring your Christmas gift to him into it?”

“Who said my giftee was Gyro?” Della crossed her arms, still looking smug.

“Well who else could it be?”

“Not telling.”

Fenton groaned. “All I’m asking you is to take this gift exchange seriously and not mess around with Gyro.”

“Oh, don’t even worry about that!” Della clapped him on the shoulder, winking as she walked past him to leave. “Just relax. You’ll see.”

Fenton might have taken those words to heart if on her way out, and on Gyro’s way in, the two fought on who would pass through the door first, shoving and squeezing past each other childishly and made a dramatic effort to trip the other with their feet.

* * *

“Hey Gyro, fun idea! Why don’t we go someplace next week to celebrate the holidays? We could spend Christmas in Cape Finch-”

“It’s like below freezing there,” Gyro cut in, rooting through a box of tinsel, partially tangled in it.

“Or maybe someplace sunny like Hawaii and-”

“We don’t have the money for that,” Gyro scoffed lightly. “I fully intend to spend Christmas in our nicely decorated apartment, thank you.”

Fenton sighed in defeat at the failure of his last ditch effort and winced at the next blow that came with Gyro’s words.

“Besides, I don’t want to miss the gift exchange. I put too much work into mine.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” Fenton sighed, knowing it wouldn’t be fair to shirk Huey of his present either.

“I’m always right. Now help me string tinsel.”

The shimmery wad of strands clumsily landed in Fenton’s arms when Gyro tossed it over, leaving him tangled in the web it left. Momentarily forgetting his worries, Fenton began to laugh and struggled to get loose from the tinsel, only getting more and more trapped. Gyro’s attempts to help only tangled them both in, and they spent more than a minute trying to get out from it, laughing and pulling at each other’s limbs and shirts.

The laughter and playfighting then led to gentle kisses, then to longer ones coupled with touching, then to the two scrambling to their room, cranking up the already loud Christmas music on the radio. And nothing could distract Fenton from Gyro’s attention then and there.

A short while later, while the two lay in pleasant exhaustion however, Fenton got back to thinking about his concerns. Things were fine now, _great_ even, yes. But he knew it would only take one bad day to set things back or at least sour Gyro’s holiday. He tried not to voice these concerns to Gyro too much, knowing the chicken would hate the idea that he wanted to coddle him. Fenton just loved him too much to look the other way.

Watching his half-asleep boyfriend as they cuddled, Fenton decided to make one last effort to make his case to Della. To appeal to her mother instincts. He texted her, choosing his words carefully but deciding to be honest.

_I know you and Gyro don’t always get along but I really am worried about him during this holiday. He’s been on antidepressants and he’s also been really sad about his cat passing away. Christmas is supposed to make him happy and I’m just worried that if you do what I think you’re going to do he’s going to be miserable again and I don’t want that to happen. I love him very much. I hope you understand._

Fenton held his breath as the typing indication looped at the bottom and Della answered.

_I totally understand_

His relief only lasted for a moment as Della immediately sent a followup message.

_I’m still going through with my gift. Trust me, he’ll be fine_

Wincing, Fenton texted back.

_I don’t want to risk it._

One last answer.

_Trust me_

“Who are you talkin’ to?” Gyro purred sleepily, throwing his arms around Fenton to pull him close in a tight cuddle.

“Ah...just M’ma,” Fenton lied, putting the phone down and letting himself sink into the warm and loving embrace.

If he was going to have to count on Christmas being ruined, he’d try to make the best with the time now.

* * *

Gyro sensed that something was off with Fenton the morning of the last day of work before the Christmas vacation and the party. Perhaps his boyfriend had been replaced by a robot sent from the future to assassinate him? Or he was just anxious? Whatever it was, Gyro didn’t know. When he asked, Fenton just said he was nervous about hoping his exchanged gift would go over well with the recipient.

“But enough about me,” Fenton immediately brushed it off. “How are you today? Good?”

“As good as I can be in an itchy sweater.” Gyro winced as he scratched at himself. He was allergic to wool, but he sincerely wanted to win the ugly sweater contest and get the free coupon catalogue, ever the frugal consumer. “Hand me the mini battery pack for the lights?”

Fenton handed it over. “Did you take your medicine today?”

“At breakfast.”

“Same time as yester-”

“Are you worried about me or something?”

Caught in the spotlight, Fenton gulped. “Not worried, just...you know this time period is often the turning point for some medications, and I just want to know that you’re feeling okay.”

Whatever annoyance Gyro was feeling softened as he gently thumbed Fenton’s bill. “I’m fine. I can understand the urge to worry, but it truly isn’t anything to concern you. I feel better nowadays.”

Giving the tiniest smile, Fenton sighed. “You’re right.”

“I’m always right. Now grab the microradio that plays Jingle Bells so I can hide it in the sleeve.”

To Fenton’s surprise, the party had been set up in a board room and not like the lab as he presumed, decorated to the nines. A table of various holiday goodies sat on one side. Tinsel and lights and streamers hung from the ceiling and the walls, and a tree was tucked in the back corner, gifts piled up underneath. After some varied mingling and festivities and a certain ugly Christmas sweater contest (which Gyro lost to Dewey), the gift exchange began.

Gyro hid absolutely none of his pride as Webby cheerfully swung about her desired flaming blade but made sure to very quickly stifle it when Bentina could be heard vowing to wring the neck of whoever granted a dangerous request. Fenton was happy that Huey enjoyed the Junior Woodchuck Trailguide Kit that he’d gotten him but kept a close eye on both Gyro and Della, who were occupying different sides of the room at the time. 

Oddly enough, Fenton had yet to receive his present. And so did Gyro.

“Do you think someone forgot?” The duck looked up to his boyfriend.

“Perhaps. All the same, I’m not too bothered. I made my list blank for a reason.”

“Yeah...well…” Fenton began, then sighed.

“It’s a shame you didn’t get your present either.” Gyro clicked his tongue. “What was it that you wanted?”

“Oh…” Fenton froze. “I...don’t even remember,” he laughed nervously. “Probably something silly like a portable keyboard.”

“Ah. Well, we could always find one on clearance after Christmas,” Gyro suggested, playfully looping an arm around Fenton’s waist.

“So I guess that’s your way of saying that’s not what your present to me is?” Fenton sunk into his boyfriend’s arms.

“I never said that,” Gyro snorted, frowning as he felt his phone vibrate and checked the message. He rolled his eyes. “Of course, of all the stupid things, Della goes and gets herself locked in the lab.”

Fenton gulped. 

“Suppose I’ll have to go down to unlock it and figure out just what damage she applied to everything while she was down there.”

“H-Haha...yeah.” Fenton rubbed his neck nervously. “Or we could just...let her stay down there and spend her Christmas in there?” he suggested, trying to sound playful.

Gyro gave a grin. “Ooh, that’s devilish of you, darling...but I can’t trust her not to break something in an attempt to escape. May as well let her out with a good taunting.”

Fenton tried to play along with Gyro’s amusement, going into the elevator with him and silently dreading the worst as they descended into the lab. He fully expected something like a flood of water or mud right in Gyro’s face when the door opened. Instead, both Gyro and Fenton were met with an incredibly clean lab, some Christmas lights strung above the ocean-view windows and Gyro’s desk decked out in lights, wrapping paper, and decorations.

Both standing with their mouths agape, Gyro was the first to speak up. “Della, what did you do to my lab?”

“Gussied it up a bit?” She shrugged, leaning against the chicken’s desk. “Oh by the way, careful walking in here, floor got waxed.”

Gyro slipped literally the second after she said that. Fenton caught him by his arm, and they carefully and slowly stepped forward to reach Gyro’s desk.

“Did you literally gift-wrap my desk?” Gyro leered at her suspiciously.

“Yeah, and man, that took forever! I had to make like seven different measurements so I could get it all to line up,” Della began to ramble. “I mean I was never the best at wrapping stuff, but Huey’s got a knack for it, so he was in here all night with me helping me set it up.”

“So your present is you wrapping my desk?”

“Open it, Four-Eyes and find out.”

Gyro looked at Della, then at a completely confused Fenton, then at the desk and gave a cavalier shrug, beginning to tear off the wrapping paper.

Della hadn’t evidently done anything to the desk underneath (thankfully), aside from put a card in an envelope on top of it. As Gyro read the card, all Fenton could do was gauge his facial expressions. His blank confusion visibly melted into a soft look of affection, and Fenton thought he could see the tiniest of smiles grow on Gyro’s face. Gyro shot him a glance momentarily, smiled a little more, then put the card down, reaching for the largest drawer under his desk and pulled it open. He grinned as he took out a decorative gift bag. “Della what the heck is this?”

“Just open it,” she said, sauntering over to stand beside Fenton.

Gyro opened the top of the bag and peered inside, face blanking as he stared at the contents. Before Fenton could ask what was inside, he saw Gyro’s face crumple, and his hands shot up to cover it.

“Oh…” was all that came out of Gyro’s beak.

“Gyro?” Fenton rushed over to him, seeing the chicken about to cry or in the process of it.

Gyro finally sat back up, tears in his eyes as he reached into the bag and pulled out a very familiar looking plush cat, hands shaking as he examined it. “Oh my god, it looks just like Mollie.”

“I know right?” Della grinned, hands on her hips. “They even got it down to the weird spot on her butt!”

Fenton looked at the stuffed animal in Gyro’s hands, then at Della. “It’s not...real...is it?”

“Wha? Oh no no no, dude, it’s one of those personalized stuffed animals you can get of pets! You just send them pictures and details and they do the rest! I put the order in after we got the gift exchange organized and nabbed photos from Beakbook. Best $500 bucks I spent.”

“Five hundred?” Fenton looked at her, bewildered.

“Well, the Mollie one was like $300. I spent an extra $200 on getting slippers with my head on them. Eh? Eh???” Della revealed her feet in fuzzy footwear that resembled her face to a creepily accurate degree.

Whatever tears Gyro was holding back had since gone down his face as he kept switching between covering his face and looking at the plush. Della shuffled over, clapping him on the shoulder.

“Hey. Gy. Hey.”

Gyro looked at her, still struggling to come up with words and blinking away tears. Della smiled.

“Merry Christmas buddy.”

Holding back a sob, Gyro covered his face again, and Della yanked him down into a bearhug, nearly crushing him.

“I still miss her,” Gyro laughed weakly.

“I know. We all miss her too,” Della laughed back, looking close to crying too. She remembered that stupid cat before she went to the moon or even had her kids and how many times the animal had bitten or scratched her on Gyro’s command. Even if that cat hated her, Della knew she meant the world to Gyro.

Pulling away from the aggressive hug, Gyro wiped his eyes again and held up the plush. “I love this...thank you.”

“Don’t thank me, thank your boyfriend. He’s the one who asked for you to have a good Christmas.” Della glanced back to Fenton, who was still trying to piece together everything.

“Wait…” Fenton blinked. “You were going off of my list?”

“Yeah, who else?” Della snorted. “And I go by the promise to deliver on wishes, so I went all freakin’ out on this present.”

“Your wishlist was for me to be happy?” Gyro looked over to Fenton, smiling softly. “I quite appreciate the sentiment.”

Fenton flushed pink, rubbing the back of his neck. “Well, of course...I love seeing you happy, and I love you!”

“I reciprocate that affection.” Gyro pulled Fenton into a gentle kiss, nuzzling his cheek.

“Ah, god, okay, enough of you being mushy,” Della snorted. “What are you gonna do with your present?”

Gyro looked down at the stuffed toy and smiled. “I think I’ll put her on my desk at home where Mollie used to sit. That way she can always be there.”

Fenton grinned from ear to ear at the idea, and pulled Gyro into another hug. Just as he was getting comfortable, he paused. “Wait, Della, if you had my list, then who got Gyro’s?”

Gyro’s phone buzzed again, and he saw a message from Louie.

_IOU._

Snorting, Gyro pocketed his phone. “I think whatever it was would have paled in comparison to this. But I’m going to be fully honest, I had a feeling Della was putting together something for me.”

“Really?”

“Of course. I mean, stepping into the lab every few days? Tape measures? I watch security feed in here on breaks,” Gyro scoffed. “I’d just been expecting some sort of prank like old times.”

“Y-You mean she’s pranked you on Christmas before?”

“Of course, what do we look like? Amateurs?” Gyro snickered to his boyfriend.

“And I’m fully planning to do it after New Year’s.”

Fenton nearly melted into the floor in both relief and embarrassment. This whole time, he really had been worrying over nothing. He sheepishly glanced to Della. “...I guess I owe you an apology for thinking you were just going to pull some prank on Gyro for a present.”

“Ah, nah,” Della waved off. “I mean, if it were any other time, I would, but your list said nothing about filling Gyro’s fridge with bugs and putting cream cheese in his shoes.”

“What?” Gyro looked at her.

“Nothing. Also don’t open the fridge until after Christmas. By then they’ll have all died.”

As Gyro and Della went about their usual squabbling, Fenton decided to take a look at the card Della had written. Upon seeing the contents, he began to smile.

_Gyro_

_I know this year has been really hard on you and I’m sorry. You deserve to be happy, and I’m glad you’re getting the help you need and people who support you. You’re one of the smartest and most hardworking people I know, and even though we fight a lot (and totally will in the future), I’m glad to call you my friend, and I’m so amazingly proud of you. I’m also really sorry about Mollie. I know how much she meant to you. Also, your boyfriend is like the absolute best guy you could have found, and he loves you so much._

_I hope you have a very merry Christmas and when this holiday is over and done, I am going straight back to kicking your ass._

_Your friend_

_Della_

_P.S. Check your bottom drawer._ _  
_

* * *

“Do you mind if I sit down? My knees are starting to give out.” Fenton tugged Gyro’s sleeve.

“Already?” Gyro glanced at Fenton, attention away from the cages for a brief moment.

“We’ve been on our feet since 9 AM looking at the cats,” the duck reminded him, “and walking from the apartment might have been a little too much on a cold morning.”

“Alright, suit yourself, but I warned you it would be a longer process.”

Fenton knew he probably had nobody to blame but himself, since he had been the one to suggest the idea of taking Gyro to the animal shelter on Christmas morning to adopt a kitten. Gyro wasn’t a quick decider when it came to this sort of thing and rightfully so. He wanted to find the cat that would be the most attached to him upon meeting, and it came with tough choices since they were all so cute, and if he had his way, he would have absolutely taken them all.

“Hm...no...no this just isn’t working,” Gyro sighed. “You see, I can’t tell from here that any of these would be the right one.”

“Do you want to come back another day?” Fenton tilted his head.

“Oh no. We’re getting the new little beast today, and I know just how to figure out which one.” Gyro grinned as he dialed on his phone. “Della? Yeah, it’s Gyro. I need you to come to the animal shelter for a brief assessment alright? And yes, I promise not to tell them that you need a rabies shot...again…”

“You asked Della to come here?” Fenton raised an eyebrow.

“You see, Mollie and I had a very strong bond that grew even stronger after her first chance encounter with the duck family. And thus I have a standard for whichever kitten we get.”

“And that standard being?”

“Whichever kitten bites Della first is the winner,” Gyro announced smugly, looking into the cages proudly with a grin from ear to ear.

And in spite of the mischief, it was the biggest smile Fenton had seen on Gyro in a long time.


End file.
